


i should let someone know (maybe when i'm better)

by spiritypowers, wordswithdragons



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, aka 3k of working through leftover abandonment issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23586691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritypowers/pseuds/spiritypowers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswithdragons/pseuds/wordswithdragons
Summary: Rayla has a fever that brings out some unintended emotional consequences. Callum is there to help.
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 229





	i should let someone know (maybe when i'm better)

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the song "colorbind" by mokita

Rayla didn’t get sick. She never got sick—not after spending entire nights outside in the rain, not after being around sick toddlers, not after staying up all night—even for an elf, her immune system had always been rock solid.

_ Had _ been. She’d hardly registered the itch in her throat till her nose stuffed up and she’d started shivering, in spite of pressurized heat building up in her face and head.

“You’re burning up,” Callum had said, his brow furrowed in concern as he pressed a palm to her forehead.

“‘M fine,” she muttered, even if she did feel warm.

She’d just finished her latest guard shift. It had been three months since the end of the war, but things had only recently started to slow down. Saying goodbye to the human troops who had taken a good week to go back home, sending for elves to make a new Dragon Guard with her as captain, to ensure the Spire stayed safe in the fallout, helping Callum with his mage training too… 

“Rayla, I think you need to rest,” he said gently. “You’ve been working too hard.”

“I’ve been working normally—things have just slowed down. I can’t be  _ sick _ .”

Callum tsked thoughtfully. “Our bodies often crash when things slow down. It’s a way of letting us know that we’ve hit our limits and that we need a breather.”

“Well, mine doesn’t.”

“Mmhm.” Callum crossed his arms, unconvinced. “Maybe just come to bed earlier tonight, and we’ll see how you’re doing in the morning, okay?” He raised his brows when she frowned at him, and Rayla slowly sighed.

“Fine.” She let Callum take her hand, guiding her back to their room. “If I was sick, wouldn’t you get sick too?”

“Maybe. But I have a pretty good immune system too, and  _ someone _ has to take care of you anyway.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of,” she mumbled.

“It’s either me or Ibis, and you don’t really know Ibis,” said Callum flatly, “so take your pick.” Rayla made a face and they knew he’d won at least one point. “Besides,” he continued, “everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes. You’d take care of me if I got sick too, right?”

“I would,” she admitted. “But I’m not  _ sick _ , remember?”

Rayla was sick. She felt it as soon as she woke up in the morning, despite herself. Her sinuses were clogged, her head heavy and throat slightly sore. When the sun hit her eyes, she slumped back over and buried her face in something soft and warm that she thought at first was her pillow, and then realized it was Callum’s shoulder.

Callum wrapped his arms around her. “Hey,” he said quietly, but all she could do was sniffle, curling into his warmth. “How’re you feeling?”

She went to speak but found her throat suddenly so sore it hurt to try, but she managed anyway. “Not great,” she croaked, the raspiness in her voice making it clear. 

“Do you want some water?”

Rayla wrinkled her nose, but even that felt strange, with it all stuffed-up and red. “No.”

“Tea, then?”

Tea sounded… better. At least it’d be warm. “Okay.”

Callum pressed a kiss to her hairline before slipping out of bed, careful not to dislodge her. Rayla curled into the sheets, hugging her pillow to her face. It wasn’t Callum, but it was still warm and soft.

She’d nearly fallen asleep again when she heard the door creak, and looked up to see Callum walking in with a steaming cup of tea. “I added some honey and lemon,” he said quietly as he sat back down next to her. “Helps with the sore throat.”

Rayla slowly sat up, taking the warm mug from his hands. She took a sip and then glanced out their window at the position of the sun; it was later than she thought it was. “Shouldn’t you be at your lesson with Ibis?” 

“We talked, and decided that I could use a little break, too.”

Rayla narrowed her eyes at him. “If you took the day off just to dote on me—”

“Okay, yes, it’s conveniently at the same time you’re sick, because I’m not leaving you alone here while you’re under the weather, but it’s also true that we’ve both been pushing ourselves. It’s been a little while since either of us have been able to just… rest. Yeah, you getting sick kind of forced our timing a little, but this is good for us.”

Rayla pouted at him, then let out a quiet whine as she set her tea on their tiny bedside table before resting her head in his lap, careful not to poke him with her horns. “Head hurts,” she mumbled.

“I also let Zubeia know someone else has to take your shifts today,” he said. “So don’t worry about a thing.” He gently stroked her messy hair, lingering near the base of her horns. “You sure you don’t want me to go to Gael? They’d probably be able to whip up something for the pain.” 

One of their newer guards, and a resident Earthblood healer. “Later,” she said, her eyelids heavy. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” His thumb gently touched her cheek, and she smiled a little despite herself. “But if you fall asleep in my lap, I won’t be able to go get you breakfast. Or me breakfast.” 

Rayla opened her eyes and pouted at him again, but she sat up anyway, burrowing back under the covers. “Don’t make me wait too long. You’re comfy.”

Callum smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re adorable and I’ll be back soon.”

She alternated between lying down with her face smushed against the pillow and making herself sit up to drink some of her tea. It  _ did  _ make her throat feel better, the honey soothing and also tasting nice. The mug was empty when Callum came back with some fruit and oatmeal and more honey, this time in a small bowl for her to use as a condiment. There was a glass of water on the tray as well, but she just set it aside, unwilling to wash away the warmth the honeyed tea had left in her throat. It took her a couple bites before the hunger hit, and managed to finish the bowl before settling back in bed.

“Do you need anything else?” Callum asked, setting his own empty bowl aside. “Is there anything Ethari or Runaan used to do when you were little and got sick?”

At Callum’s question, there was a vague rush of memories—tiny piles of used tissues and moonberry soup—but Rayla shook her head. She hadn’t been back to the Silvergrove since her banishment, even though it’d been revoked on Queen Zubeia’s pardon, and it hurt took much to think of.

“I’m okay,” she said with a small, slightly pained smile. She hoped he would chalk it up to her ailing health. “Mostly I’m just tired.”

“I mean,” said Callum, forever looking on the bright side of things (and she loved him for it), “you’d have to be in bed all day anyway. You may as well actually rest.” 

Rayla let out a little grumble, nestling into his arms. “You’ll stay with me?”

Callum held her closer. “As long as you want.”

* * *

He woke up with his chin pressed against her shoulder, his arms wrapped snug around her waist from behind. She was lightly snoring against her pillow, her hair messily splayed out along her pillowcase. Callum shifted carefully, sitting up but keeping her close, as he grabbed his sketchbook from where he’d hung his bag on their bedpost and started sketching. He’d figured he’d need a way to pass the day somehow, especially since Rayla was so sleepy but he didn’t want to leave her side unless absolutely necessary. It didn’t seem like it was anything other than a particularly poor common cold, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving things up to chance.

Besides, taking care of each other when you were sick was something boyfriends and girlfriends and partners did, right?

He’d just finished drawing her outline—as disheveled as she looked in the moment, there was also something so endearing about it too, and maybe part of love was just seeing beauty in the less flattering moments—when she roused, her brow furrowing even as she kept her eyes closed, slowly realizing he’d moved. 

“Gone,” she managed in a thick, throaty voice, something in her expression squeezing at his heart. He took her hand.

“I’m still here,” he said gently, and her features smoothed over. “It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

“Gone,” she whispered, but there wasn’t that same urgency. Only a sort of melancholy, now, even as she shifted closer to him. 

“What’s gone?” he asked gently.

“Everyone,” she mumbled, her eyes still closed. “Always gone."

His brow furrowed. She wasn’t even totally awake, not really talking to him, but… He pressed a palm to her forehead. It was hot under his touch, almost to the point of pain. She needed a cool, damp towel, or something, but he couldn’t leave her like this. 

“I’m right here,” he promised, and her eyes cracked open blearily, a little glazed with delirium.

“But everyone leaves.” Her voice was pinched with pain. “Mum, Dad, Runaan, Ethari. The Ghosting. They gave up on me.”

His throat tightened, and he set his sketchbook aside, drawing her into his arms. “That’s not your fault,” he whispered. “They were wrong to give up on you.”

“But they did. Everyone…” She looked at him, but wasn’t quite looking at him, or anything. “When will you leave, too?”

His eyes burned and he held her closer, shifting to lay beside and press his forehead against hers. Her skin was hot. “I’m never gonna leave,” he said firmly, trying not to let his voice break. He wasn’t sure how much of this was truly how she felt, but if it was spilling out of her in this state, then it must be at least partially true, and that broke his heart. “Not ever.” 

Rayla blinked slowly. “Hmm,” was her only reply, and she curled into him further, her eyes closing. It took a few seconds, his heart beating loudly in his chest, before he knew she’d fallen back asleep, looking more peaceful this time too. Or at least, no longer visibly distressed. Still, his throat was tight, his eyes watery as he held her to him. 

He didn’t—couldn’t—know how much she’d meant everything she said. He knew that she knew it was more complicated than what she’d said. Ethari had made a mistake, but he hadn’t…  _ left _ , the same way, and had invited them back to the Silvergrove anytime. Her parents hadn’t wanted to—not to death, at least, but still. And Runaan was complicated, but Rayla knew he’d done everything he felt he could to protect her until she’d forced his hand and that death had always been a very real possibility. And yet, in spite of all the logic, Callum knew she could know all of that, and feel incredibly differently anyway. And not unjustifiably different, either. And she could know that he didn’t want to leave her, would never want to leave, and she could be afraid of it, deep down, anyway.

And Rayla hated being afraid.

He buried his face in her hair, nestling between her horns. Kissed the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. He would be there when she woke up and they’d get through whatever this was, whatever this actually meant, together, like always.

He just hoped she still believed that, deep down.

* * *

_ She’s seven years old and she knows the house is over decorated; it’s only ever Runaan and Ethari and her parents on her birthdays. She can’t care as a lopsided cake with Moonberry frosting comes out, seven tiny spark flowers burning at the tips of their stems, tiny little fireworks going off atop each. It’s her father that carries it out, her mum with a warm smile, and Ethari leads in singing her the usual birthday song as they set it down in front of her. Runaan is smiling softly, encouraging her to make a wish. She doesn’t wish fast enough; she takes in a breath to blow out the flower stems, but her breath comes out slowly, too slowly. When the flames are gone, she looks up, and it’s dark. _

_ “They can’t make it this year.” Ethari’s voice, her eleventh birthday. _

_ “It’s alright,” comes her own voice, distant and echoey in her head. As if she’s underwater. _

_ She is underwater. She takes a slow breath back in and it’s salty and bitter, stinging her throat as it fills her lungs. She kicks wildly in the darkness in an effort to get to the surface. She can’t see her arms in front of her. _

_ There’s a light. At least she thinks it’s a light. But it’s dull and greyish, and there are voices but she can’t make out what they’re saying _ —

_ It’s not a light. It’s the glint of silver bands on wrists, arms, reaching. She kicks towards them now, even as her lungs fill with more water. Darkness? Reaching back. Closer and closer. Her fingers can almost just reach but _ —

_ They’re gone. Her fingers close around nothing. There is no more light. _

_ She tries to cry out but it’s silent, even as the action leaves her throat raw and sore. Gone. They’re gone. Everyone. Your fault, comes a quiet voice. Not really a voice. A thought? A feeling? _

_ Your fault your fault your fault _ —

_ There’s a light again. A real light. It touches her shoulder and warmth spreads across her skin. She turns towards it, gasping for air. Then a voice, strung together like a symphony. _

_ “We’re in this together—Rayla, come on, at least let us keep up with you—Rayla is kind and good—And I understand why you couldn’t tell me—Wait, Rayla—Are you okay? Rayla, it’s okay—the most amazing person I’ve ever met—Cause  _ I love you _ , Rayla. I really do.” _

_ She still can’t see. But it’s no longer dark. She is warm. _

_ “Rayla.” _

_ She reaches for the sound. Grabs hold. It doesn’t leave. _

_ “Rayla.” _

_ When she breathes, her lungs fill with air. _

“Rayla!”

Her eyelids flew open as she took a sharp breath, her hair and nightgown drenched. Cheeks wet with hot tears. She’d been dreaming. Having a nightmare, more accurately. She wasn’t in any water. She was in bed, at home in the Spire, and—

“Oh gods you scared me,” Callum exhaled all in one breath, and she looked at him as he rested his forehead against her collarbone.

“Callum?”

“You started shaking, and then—I didn’t know what to do—” He sat up, searching her face. He pressed a hand to her forehead, then let out a sigh of relief. “I think your fever broke.”

“Fever?”

“You had one when you went back to sleep,” he explained, voice still quick with barely subdued panic. “You were burning up. And having a dream I guess? Like when I did Dark Magic. Not that you did Dark Magic, but—” Rayla hugged him tight. He only startled for half a moment before he hugged her back just as tight, rubbing small circles into her back. His voice was steady this time. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay?”

She nodded, half nuzzling into his shoulder. “Physically I’m fine,” she said quietly. She sniffled. “Still a bit stuffy.” 

“You were asleep for a long time,” he said, brushing her hair behind her ears. “Can I get you some soup and tea?”

Rayla smiled as she pulled away. “That sounds really good right about now. Thank you.”

He smiled back at her although concern still shone in his eyes. “Okay. Do you need anything else? Blanket?”

“I might change while you’re gone,” she admitted. It’d be good to wear something fresh. Maybe wash her face in their bathroom’s water basin. “Not gone, well—”

Callum tilted his head down and kissed her forehead. “I know. I’ll be right back, and I’ll knock, okay? Just say when.” 

The tension in her body loosened. “Okay.” She went into the bathroom, if only to keep from having to watch him leave. She washed her face and combed back her hair before she stripped off her sweaty nightgown and pulled on a fresh one and then one of Callum’s spare coats for a bit of added warmth. 

Only maybe ten minutes had gone by before there was a clumsy knock at the door, and Rayla supposed it was Callum using his elbow, his hands likely full. “Can I come in?”

Rayla smiled. “Yes,” she called back, her smile growing when he stepped in balancing a full tray in his arms. 

“You know,” he said, grinning now, “I could’ve just gotten you a blanket.” He didn’t look displeased at all to see her wearing his clothes, though. 

“This covers my arms better than a blanket could while I eat,” she pointed out, practical as always, even if her smile was sweet. He set the tray down in front of her before pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. She began eating even before he settled next to her, trying to pace herself even as the hunger pangs in her stomach tempted her to eat faster. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked after a long stretch of silence. 

She paused. “Better,” she said. “My throat’s still a little sore, and my nose still feels funny but.. Definitely better than before.”

Callum smiled softly. There was something… off. “Good,” he said. 

Rayla squinted at him. “Is everything alright with you?”

“I’m fine,” he said brightly.

“Callum.” She pursed her lips. Finished off her soup with one last sip. She set her bowl back down. “What aren’t you telling me?” He was a terrible liar, most of the time, and this was no exception. 

Something in his expression faltered, and he kissed her softly. “Can I tell you later?” he asked. “It’s not bad, it’s just…” 

Rayla gave him a nod and pressed her lips against his again. Right now, they would just be together, and that would be enough. “You better finish your soup,” she said wryly, coaxing a smile out of him, “or I’ll eat it for you.” 

“I mean, I’d let you—”

“Callum.”

He made a show of taking a spoonful of soup. “Happy?”

Her smile softened. “Yeah. I am.”

* * *

They’d gotten up and gone for a walk around the Spire’s lower ledges before retiring back to bed, the stuffiness in Rayla’s nose slowly fading. Callum checked her temperature again and got more soup, as well as a fresh stash of tissues, before they burrowed back under their sheets, twilight treading lightly outside. She was at ease when she curled up in his arms, a sparkle back in her violet eyes.

“Rayla?” he asked quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Do you know how long you had that fever?”

He mentally kicked himself as he watched her smile falter. “I dunno. A day?”

“More like four.”

Rayla blinked. “Oh.”

“And… Do you remember waking up, during that week, or… saying anything?”

Her brow furrowed as she shook her head. “Not… really? I remember having some kind of nightmare.”

“When you woke up the second time.” 

“The second time?”

Callum sighed. “You woke up maybe a day into the fever. I’d been able to get you to sit up long enough to take sips of water, or soup, but you weren’t really  _ awake _ —you were mumbling, mostly. It wasn’t super coherent, but… you were worried. About me leaving.”

She turned thoughtful. “Leaving? What, to go to the bathroom or something?”

He shook his head, his expression solemn. “You… you talked about your parents, and Runaan and Ethari. And… the Ghosting.”

Rayla stilled. “Why would I talk about that?”

“You talked about… how they left.” His throat tightened. “You asked me when I was gonna leave.”

Her eyes widened, and she quickly looked away. “Oh. Sorry.”

“No, you don’t have to—” He cupped her cheek. “Look at me. Please?”

Her eyes slowly met his again. “I didn’t mean to say any of that,” she said softly. “I don’t even remember it.”

“I know. And you know that I’d never leave you, right?”

“Callum, it’s fine, you don’t have to do this—”

“You know I would never leave you?” he reiterated.

“I know.”

He took her hands. “Do you?” he checked. “Because why’d you ask?”

Rayla shut her eyes, still shying away from his gaze. “I don’t know. I was sick? I don’t even remember saying it.”

“I just… It’s really important to me that you know. I know the situation can be more complicated than it feels, sometimes. But… I am not going anywhere. Not ever.” Callum squeezed her hands. “I’m not going to be like everyone else.” 

Her eyelids shut tighter. “Everyone else…”

“Rayla?”

She let go of his hands and sat up. “It’s nothing,” she said quickly. Callum frowned, sitting up with her to rub small circles into her lower back.

“Hey. Talk to me. Please?”

Slowly, she turned towards him. “I know they didn’t… mean to leave,” she said. “My parents, I mean. And… Runaan, he—he wanted to come back. And Ethari… I just—” Her brow furrowed. “Will everyone else keep leaving like that?”

“No. No, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, panic rising. “I just—”

“And they didn’t mean to go, and they didn’t want to, and you wouldn’t either—”

“Rayla—”

“I don’t know if you can control that. I don’t know if anyone can.” She drew her knees up to her chest. “I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“What you feel isn’t stupid,” he said gently, only just beginning to ease. “Have you been feeling this way this whole time?”

“Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “It just… seemed like a silly thing to worry about, in the middle of everything. And we were happy.  _ Are  _ happy. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You’re not ruining anything. I’ve been scared about losing you, too. You’re so selfless and brave and I love that about you, but it also means you put yourself at risk, and…” Callum kept his eyes on her. “Sometimes the family we’re born into lets us down. Or our parents aren’t perfect. We can’t help that. But the friends—the family we choose—we can give each other the things we weren’t getting before. Me and Ez are your family. We’re not going anywhere.  _ I’m _ not going anywhere. And if anything does tear me away from you, it’ll be temporary, and I’ll spend every second fighting my way right back to you. I  _ love  _ you. That’s forever, Rayla.”

Her eyes shone with tears. “I know,” she said quietly, and this time, in spite of the way her voice trembled, he knew she meant it. “I love you too.”

He tugged her to him and rested his forehead against hers. “I’m never gonna leave you,” he repeated. “Not really. Not ever. Okay?”

She kissed him, and he held her closer, feeling a tear—hers or his?—trickle down his cheek. “Okay,” she whispered, pressing closer. “Okay.”

They didn’t let go.

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick note about her parents: all four deeply loved her and showed it, but each made mistakes (as people and parents are prone to do) or chose other things (the mission, duty, grief) over rayla, however briefly. and the emotions that would stem from those decisions have a place to be worked through, too, in rayla's life. that is all.


End file.
